


I Wanna Scream that I'm Sorry

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: After two months of silence, Bellamy wakes up to a phone call from the hospital. Clarke was in an accident and he needs to get down there. After all that time, he's still her emergency contact and he goes without a moment of hesitation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _bff prompt: hey! can you do a drabble where Bellamy gets a phone call and finds out Clarke is in the hospital or something like that? and maybe they broke up or something like that._
> 
>  
> 
> The title is from John Legend's song _How Can I Blame You ___off of his newest album. Listen to it. Listen to the whole thing. On vinyl, if at all possible.

The last thing Bellamy expects to wake him up on a Saturday morning is a phone call from the hospital. Well, maybe not the  _ last. _ He’s been friends with Jasper and Monty long enough to expect a phone call from the hospital every once in awhile. But he definitely doesn’t expect it to be a phone call from a nurse telling him about  _ Clarke.  _

The nurse doesn’t sound too worried, which does very little to calm his nerves, but she does tell him that Clarke was in an accident and now in surgery and if he could, he should get down there to fill out some paperwork. It’s a minor surgery to reset her broken arm and she should be out within thirty minutes.

“Why me?” he asks, voice still rough from sleep.

“You’re her emergency contact,” she tells him and he nods, despite the fact the no one can see him. 

Clarke cut her finger open six months ago when she was cooking them dinner and he took her to the hospital so she could get stitches. She wasn’t talking to her mom then, so she put him as her emergency contact. They were dating at the time, it made all the sense in the world. 

But…

It’s been two months with no contact. Two months since he had walked away from her.  _ Two months. _

“I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone and hangs up without waiting for a response. 

Two months was long enough. Two months was too long.

He gets dressed quickly and leaves his house without putting on socks or a pair of gloves, despite the fact that snow is falling in fat, wet clumps. He drives carefully to the hospital because the roads are terrible and people drive like idiots even on the sunniest, driest of days. Plus, Clarke was in an accident and he’s no use to her or anyone if he gets in one, too.

When he finally does get to the hospital it’s been over an hour since the phone call. They hand him a clipboard and tell him where he can find Clarke. Though she’s asleep when he slips into her room, he’s relieved to see her at all. In two months, she’s cut her hair and there’s a small cut on her face—probably from the accident. Aside from that and the cast on her arm, she looks the same. 

It still does little to calm his nerves. He’s sure that his nerves won’t settle until she’s awake and he can talk to her and just  _ knows  _ that she’s okay. Not that he doesn’t believe what the nurse told him on the phone or what the other nurse told him when he got to the hospital, he just needs to see it for himself. 

He’s not sure how long she’ll be asleep, but she’s just gotten out of surgery and it’s barely eight o’clock in the morning. He assumes she’ll probably be out for a little while. So, Bellamy gets as comfortable as he can in the chair next to her bed. He curls himself into a little ball at first, but he’s too bulky for the small space. Then he slouches down so he can rest his head on the back of the chair, but his shoes are wet from the snow and his feet keep slipping underneath the bed. He sits up again and rests his elbows on his knees and drops his face into his hands, groaning quietly.

“Oh my god.” Bellamy quickly lifts his head to look at Clarke. She’s glaring at him with tired eyes. “Can’t you ever just sit still?”

He smiles at that and she groans—in pain or her displeasure in seeing him, he’s not sure which. Maybe both.

“Are you okay?” he asks her carefully and her head falls to the side so she can look at him again. 

“Why are you here?” she asks him. It doesn’t come out as harshly as he was expecting—more exhausted than anything.

“I guess I’m still your emergency contact,” he explains and she nods sluggishly. “I’m going to go let the nurses know you’re awake.”

He stands to leave, but she shakes her head and reaches out with her unharmed arm. “There’s a button for that,” she reminds him and he sits down again. 

Clarke lies on her bed, unmoving, staring at the ceiling while Bellamy stares at her. She hasn’t told him to leave yet, so that’s a good sign, but he’s not quite sure why he’s still there. 

When the nurse comes in to check on her, he stands up and moves to the far side of the room to give them space. Clarke’s doctor comes in a minute later and offers Bellamy a small smile while the nurse finishes up. Bellamy nods back at her before letting his chin fall to his chest. He listens as they speak, but only for any indication that Clarke is in serious pain or will need any further medical attention. 

“Like I mentioned after the surgery, you will more than likely be discharged this afternoon,” the doctor says and Clarke hums in response. “We want to monitor you just a little bit longer. And it might be a good idea to have a friend, or your boyfriend here, stay with you for a day or two. Just in case there are any issues or you need any help.”

Bellamy finally looks up when he hears that, expecting Clarke to correct her, but she just looks at him and subtly rolls her eyes. He smirks, knowing how much she hates when people assume she’s straight and that any man in her life is automatically romantically attached to her. Neither of them have patience for heteronormative bullshit. 

“Thank you,” she says and they both watch as the doctor leaves. “You can go,” Clarke says to Bellamy now. “I’ll call Raven or Monty.”

“You could,” he agrees, sitting down again. “Or-“

“No, Bellamy.”

“Can we at least talk about it before you shut me down completely?” he asks, realizing how close to begging he actually is. He misses her and he has for the entire two months they’ve been broken up. He doesn’t want to leave her side now that he’s finally here again.

“You didn’t want to talk about anything two months ago,” she reminds him, laughing harshly. “You just  _ left _ . So, please, just leave.”

“I don’t want to leave and I  _ shouldn’t have  _ left before,” he tells her, pulling his chair closer to her bed. He crosses his arms on top of the bed and waits for her to look at him before he speaks again. “I got scared. I fucked up.”

“You don’t get to come in here and try and save me just because I’m hurt. You made a choice, Bellamy. Not only did you not want to move in with me, you didn’t even want to talk about it, so you  _ left _ . You can’t go back on that,” Clarke tells him through gritted teeth. 

“I don’t want to go back on it,” he promises. “I want to move past it. I got scared again this morning when I got the phone call from the hospital, and it was a hell of a lot scarier than that time you asked me to move in with you.”

“You should have been in the car, too,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes and he tries not to smile. 

He tentatively stretches his fingers to touch hers that are peeking out of her cast. “At least it wasn’t your left hand,” he says quietly and she sighs, pulling her hand back just enough that he can’t reach without moving. 

“I’ll be back at work on Monday,” she says and he nods, distracted. He feels her looking at him and he turns his head to look back. “So, you’re not leaving?”

“I will if you want me to,” he relents. He can’t stay if she  _ doesn’t  _ want him to. He wants her back, but he wants her to want him back, too. “I’ll call whoever you want. But, I’d like to stay and help you out, if you’ll let me.”

Clarke rolls her eyes up at the ceiling, but doesn’t tell him to leave or who to call, so he sits back in his chair and bites back a hopeful smile. 

“Monty tells me you’ve been really miserable the last couple of months,” she mentions after a few minutes of silence and Bellamy huffs out a laugh. She’s still not looking at him, but her good hand is playing with her blanket—wringing it and then flattening it, over and over again—so he knows that she’s nervous about something. 

He doesn’t blame her. Two months is a long time.

“Funny, he said the same thing about you,” Bellamy tells her and she groans.

“Traitor,” she says and he laughs again, louder than before. “You broke up with me. He’s supposed to be on my side.”

“Don’t worry, he is. He tells you I’m miserable to make you feel better. He tells  _ me _ about  _ you _ to make me feel like a dick.”

“Did it work?” Clarke asks, looking at him finally. 

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. It made me feel like a dick. It made me feel like I really fucked up. It made me miss you. It covered pretty much all of the bases.”

“So, then, why didn’t you try and contact me sooner? If you felt that way?” Her face is so open and she clearly wants a straight answer. And Bellamy wants to give her one.

“Because I  _ did _ fuck up and I hadn’t figured out how to fix it yet,” he admits. “I still haven’t. But I  _ want to _ fix it.”

Clarke thinks about that for a second and uses her good hand to push herself into a sitting position on the bed. Bellamy’s eyes follow her every moment as he waits for her to say something.

“The funny thing is that I never even gave you an ultimatum,” she tells him and he nods, deflating a little. “If you had just hung around long enough, you would have seen how great of a girlfriend I actually am.”

“I knew that already,” he promises and she cuts her eyes to him, narrow and wholly unimpressed. He smirks a little and says, “See, that’s why I love you. You don’t take any of my shit.”

Clarke, still unimpressed and glaring, says, “You usually know better than to give me any shit.”

Bellamy knows that’s true, so he just shrugs. They fall into another bout of silence and he tries to come up with something that will  _ fix  _ them. They’ve never had a problem verbally sparring, they could go on like this until they leave the hospital, but it’s not doing anything to move them past their breakup. And it’s really not doing anything to get them back together.

“It was never going to be move in with me or we break up,” she says finally and he squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “I knew it was a big move. I knew you might not be on board. But it was never one or the other.  _ You  _ made it that way. You shut down and left.”

“I know.”

“Why?” she asks him outright. It’s a fair question. Why did he do it? Why is he trying to do something about it now? He could have filled out what needed to be filled out and called one of their friends to take his place all before she even woke up. But… he couldn’t.

“I’ve never doubted that you and I would end up together,” he tells her slowly, quietly. He avoids her gaze and continues. “It’s not a fear commitment that sent me running. It was a fear of messing it up—even worse than I ended up doing—down the line. I  _ want  _ to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t want- I  _ didn’t  _ want to move in with you, marry you, be happy with you, and then lose you later on when it’ll hurt a hell of a lot more. So, I got scared. I left.”

She considers him and his words for a minute before closing her eyes and shaking her head. He waits for her to open her eyes and look at him. He waits for her to say something. And he knows now that he’d probably wait forever if she let him.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him. “Your logic makes no sense.”

“I know,” he admits and she tries to hide her soft smile. But he catches it before he disappears.

“But I guess I’m an idiot, too, because I understand it,” she tells him softly and it’s his turn to smile. He doesn’t even try to hide it. “This doesn’t fix everything and we still have a lot to talk about.”

“I know,” he says quickly, pulling his chair closer to her hospital bed.

“I’m exhausted,” she tells him and he nods. When her fingers graze over his, he flips his hand over to hold hers. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I promise.”  _ I promise, _ he thinks.


End file.
